


Scotch and Orange Liqueur

by Sam4265



Series: Jaydick Prompts [16]
Category: DCU
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 18:07:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9836954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam4265/pseuds/Sam4265
Summary: For the prompt: Jason is hurt or under some magic spell. And calls Dick to help/hide him until he is better.





	

Dick watched as he poured a steady stream of milk into the cereal bowl. He blew out a sigh and let up, having filled the cereal bowl with the perfect amount of milk. Practice made perfect after all. He was in Bludhaven, but he was steadily growing tired of it. He'd thought branching out on his own would be fun, but mostly he just missed his family. He missed helping Damian with his homework, taking coffee away from Tim at three am, helping Bruce work on a case until ungodly hours even Tim would gawk out, watching Alfred cook, and most importantly, he missed Jason. Good God did he miss Jason. They'd been together for a little over a month, and they were steadily working their way toward more, but they were apart too often for anything to change. Even when Jason visited Bludhaven Dick could hardly see him. He worked a full shift at the station, then spent the night as Nightwing. He slept most hours he wasn't working, and ate during the other few. He had no time for anybody like this, and he was more than tired of it. 

He stared at the phone and contemplated calling Jason, but decided against it. Dick just wanted to hear his voice, but if he wasn't calling for a valid reason, Jason might get angry, especially if he was busy. So Dick sat on the couch and ate his cereal. When the silence became overwhelming he turned on the TV. The only thing on was cop dramas, and Dick hated those with a passion. When so much of his life revolved around cop drama he didn't want to see it on TV. He scrolled through until he found one channel playing a sitcom he could pretend to enjoy, and settled deeper into the couch. The silence was really awful, and Dick couldn't stand it most days. Luckily he'd gotten an apartment in a bad part of town, so there was usually an argument to keep him company, but tonight was suspiciously quiet. 

Dick was almost finished with his cereal when there was a loud thud outside his window. He jumped, and just managed to stop himself from spilling his cereal. He picked up the remote and turned off the TV.

"Who is it?" Dick called, standing up and putting his bowl and spoon in the sink. It wasn't uncommon to get visitors from his night job, and when they came they almost always came through the fire escape. 

"Jason," Jason called. His voice was rough and gravely. He sounded hurt. Dick hurried over to the window, and pulled it open. Jason was sitting on the fire escape, covered in blood and bruises.

"Jason! Jesus, get inside!" Dick helped pull him through the window, and together they made their way to the couch. Dick sat Jason down and then went to the bathroom to find his first aid kit. His first aid kit had more than the usual amenities. Aside from band aids and hydrogen peroxide there was also a needle and sutures, and mounds upon mounds of gauze. 

Dick rushed back to the couch where Jason was attempting to pull off his leather jacket. Dick helped him get it off the rest of the way, then helped him remove the armor from his chest. When Jason's naked chest was finally on display Dick's heart caught in his throat.

"Oh, Jason," he sighed. Jason's chest was covered in slashes. He had a black eye, and there were boot shaped bruises on his ribs. Dick felt around the bruises for internal bleeding, but everything seemed fine. Jason flinched and grunted in complaint.

"Don't be such a baby," Dick said. "If you didn't want me poking around your sore spots, you would stop getting sore spots." 

Jason kept his retort to himself. Dick took the hydrogen peroxide out first and started to disinfect the open wounds.

"What happened?" He asked as he worked. 

"Drug bust, there were more of them than I'd anticipated."

"Isn't that always the case," Dick sighed. "This is why we bring backup. That's what Roy's for, Jason."

"And what about you, Goldie, where's your backup?" Jason shot back. Dick raised an eyebrow and pressed just a little bit harder than strictly necessary on the next cut. 

"No, please, continue to critique my life choices while I hold hydrogen peroxide."

Jason rolled his eyes, but wisely didn't reply. 

"Did you at least finish the job?" Dick asked. Jason snorted. 

"Of course I fucking did, who am I? Tim?"

Dick's lips thinned, but he ignored the dig. When he'd finished with the hydrogen peroxide he examined the cuts and decided that only one of them would actually need stitches.

"This one's going to need stitches," Dick said, running his hand just under a particularly nasty gash on Jason's right peck. Jason sighed.

"Alright, you got any whiskey? Vodka'll work too."

In all honest Dick wasn't sure. He wasn't a big drinker himself, and when he did drink it tended to be fruity cocktail's while out with friends at a bar. But sometimes people sent him bottle's as birthday presents, especially when they didn't know him all that well. He checked around his cabinet's and found orange liquor and the traditional bottle of scotch Bruce had given him on his twenty-first birthday the year before. 

"Jason," he called. Jason looked up at him from the couch. Dick held up both bottles with a questioning look. Jason gave a, completely unjustified, long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes.

"Only you would have orange liquor in your drink cabinet. The scotch, Dickie, duh."

Dick gave him a half hearted glare, but grabbed a glass and walked back over with the scotch. He opened the seal and started to pour Jason a glass, but Jason just grabbed the bottle and drank directly from it. 

"Sure, who needs a glass, right?" Dick muttered, and put the empty glass on the table. He waited until Jason had had a couple swigs before getting out the needle. Dick stitched up the wound to pain filled silence. Jason would make little noises here and there, but other than that they were silent. Dick concentrated on closing the wound with the little tight stitches Bruce had taught him, and Jason choked down more scotch. By the time they were finished Jason had made a decent sized dent in the bottle, and Dick had blood all over his hands. He wiped everything down with more peroxide, and then started to bind it together with gauze. Then he grabbed ice packs for Jason's bruises. He washed his hands before bringing them over. Jason leaned back on the side of the couch, and Dick sat down next to him. He placed the ice packs carefully over the bruises, and then brought the last one up to Jason's eye with extreme care, but not before giving it a feather light kiss.

"You need to take better care of yourself," Dick sighed, taking in the sight of his battered boyfriend with a frown. Jason put an arm around Dick and pulled him close. Dick was careful not to dislodge any of the ice packs, or lean on anywhere too tender. He kept his hand against the ice pack on Jason's eye.

"You're one to talk," Jason replied.

"I'm serious Jason, you can't keep doing this-" 

"I am too, Dick. Don't think I didn't notice all the cereal bowls in the sink, or the circles under your eyes. And don't think for a second that I'm not aware of your fucking ridiculous work schedule."

Dick sighed. "I know, ok, but I'm moving back to Gotham, so those problems will solve themselves. I'm not worried about that, I'm worried about you. How many times have you fallen down at my door covered in so much blood I'm not sure you'll live. How many times have I had to drag you to Leslie with broken bones or internal bleeding. You may have come back from the dead once, Jason, but that doesn't make you invincible. That was a miracle, and miracles are generally one time things. I can't lose you again, Jason. I just can't," Dick's voice broke on the last word. He loved Jason so much, he couldn't lose him. The last time had been awful, a crimson stain on a black year, and that had been before this thing that had developed between them. Before the long days spent in bed, or the flowers after fights, or the trips to the zoo just so Dick could see the elephants. 

Jason looked at Dick for a long moment. Dick wasn't wrong. Jason did act like he was invincible, but it's not like he actually thought he was. He just took certain liberties the others didn't. He'd always felt like the odd man out, the one who didn't belong. The others had things to lose, people who loved them, who'd miss them if they were gone. For example, if Dick died, well, if Dick died it wouldn't be good. He was the light of so many people's lives. He was the light of Jason's life, Bruce's too. Probably Damian's as well, if Jason were being honest. Dick had people who would rather die than see him die, and Jason was just starting to understand that maybe he did too.

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry, I'll be more careful next time." 

Dick looked shocked, but he smiled a big goofy grin and gave Jason a soft kiss on his split lips. 

"That's all I ask," he said. "Hey, want to watch some CSI?"

Jason looked at him like he'd grown a third head.

"No fucking way, put on literally anything else." 

So Dick turned the sitcom back on and settled into Jason's chest. Jason used one arm to hold Dick, and the other to hold the ice pack to his eye. They were a mess, the two of them together, but they were working on it. The thing of it was, neither of them would rather be anywhere else. If anybody asked, this was the last thing Jason would want to be doing, and Dick would shrug and blush like he wasn't sure, but the two of them together in that moment? Well, nothing could be more perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wants to leave me a prompt in the comments, feel free!


End file.
